Thirteen
by realeyesfantasize
Summary: Summer. Pink sheets. Thirteen. Find me. AH/AU short, drabble-ish fic
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to my newest literary venture! This story will span thirteen chapters and updates will come daily until I hit that complete button. I like to think of this as a snack fic (: Chapters are short and binge-able. You're welcome to read it live (as it posts) or wait thirteen days and consume it in one sitting. Enjoy (:**

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Plot inspired by Halsey's _Hurricane._

 **Beta:** SunflowerFran

* * *

 **01**

* * *

Wind catching in my shirt. Sun warming my cheeks. Sweat beading on my chest and upper lip.

This is what summer feels like.

Jasper gestures to the left with his chin, angling the handlebars of his bike and breaking off from our three-person pack. He jerks his bike up onto its rear wheel and pedals at a leisurely pace, glancing back at us with a lazy grin.

Emmett and I are quick to follow. We dig and push until we're riding abreast Jasper, swerving into him and forcing him to right his bike. He salutes us with a middle finger and pumps his legs until he's far ahead.

Tires screech against asphalt as we reach our destination. It's set off from the main park and heavily gated, but the handrails, ramps, and towering half-pipes are a welcome sight.

Bikes are abandoned as we take turns hopping the fence. Jasper and I get over easily. Standing on the other side, we watch as Emmett's jeans snag on the top. He jerks midair and tumbles haphazardly onto the ground, and the skateboard loosely strapped to his back clatters onto the tarmac beside him.

Laughter bubbles in my stomach as he twists, revealing a huge rip up the side of his pant leg. Jasper bends at the waist, howling in laughter as Emmett wraps the shorn fabric around his leg and secures it with a knot.

Good enough.

Wiping the tears from our eyes, we move to gather our boards. But, the sound that floats across the park gives us pause.

High giggles.

All three of our heads whip to the right. We aren't alone in the skate park. There are three other people here ... and their skinny legs dangle down from atop the half-pipe.

Girls.

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 **Thank you for reading!**

 **xo**

 **j**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Plot inspired by Halsey's _Hurricane._

 **Beta:** SunflowerFran

* * *

 **02**

* * *

Our pack of three becomes six.

The girls are seniors and go to our rival school. Two years older than us, their experience shows – in the way they look, the way they act, the things they say.

Tori – the redhead – is loud. Her laugh is honking. Her voice is obnoxious. The streak of black across her eyes and red paint on her lips give her face a garish quality. The shadow of her nipples through her thin white shirt practically screams at me.

I force my eyes away and swallow.

The blonde is all strawberry hair, lilac eyes, and smiles as sweet as peaches. Her pink lips curl around her words, voice soft and lilting as she peers at me from beneath heavy lashes. Her fingers twist around mine as she tells me her name – Tanya.

Bee – the brunette – is small and witty. Her nose wrinkles when she laughs and dimples form in her cheeks when she smiles. Her face is full of freckles – not in an unattractive way. They just pronounce the summertime luminance of her flawless skin. And, with eyes as sharp as her tongue, she is all things intimidating.

I'm intrigued, but I'm also a hot-blooded teenage boy. So, I stick with Tanya – it's an easy choice, what with the way she's looking at me.

Commotion on the half-pipe pulls my gaze from Tanya's mouth. It's Bee. Both Emmett and Jasper crow in surprise as she drops in, tangled hair flying behind her. Rolling to a stop, she lets out an easy laugh and bumps fists with my friends.

After a minute of tolerating my staring, Tanya lets out an impatient whine and grasps my face. Attention effectively captured, she smiles all coy-like and tugs me to her. This isn't my first kiss. And, it definitely isn't hers.

We fall into each other.

Her mouth is insistent as it fuses to mine; lips like petals and breath just as sweet. I momentarily forget where I am and who I'm with when her tongue touches mine.

Our breath mingles, and I forget everything.

I forget all about freckled cheeks, dark eyes, and wild hair.

* * *

 **I am so glad you all are enjoying it so far (: Thank you for reading!**

 **xo**

 **j**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Plot inspired by Halsey's _Hurricane._

 **Beta:** SunflowerFran

* * *

 **03**

* * *

The sun is a faint smudge of orange in a sea of darkening fuchsia. Flamingo Motel's fluorescent pink façade is an eyesore against this beatific backdrop.

Emmett's side slams three times against the door before it gives way. We've chosen lucky, unoccupied room thirteen. On a Friday. The girls giggle at the implications. Tanya feigns paranoia. She likes the attention and the weight of my arm across her shoulders.

Tori launches herself onto the bed – it's a king covered in a bright pink floral comforter. Her vibrant hair and fair skin are a stark contrast.

Bee and Jasper duck outside, leaving behind the promise of refreshments. I watch her depart for a moment before I'm swallowed up in Tanya's warm mouth and wandering hands.

It seems like seconds later that Bee and Jasper stumble back in, arms laden with clinking beer bottles and buoyant smiles stretched across their faces. Tanya squeals in delight and dismounts me, hands now grabby on the alcohol. I graciously accept the beer she hands me – my first, but she'll never know.

Jasper is giddy as he tips his back against his lips. Emmett holds the bottle between his fingertips like it might explode. I almost snort mine out my nose at the sight. He frowns at my laughter and takes a hard swig in response. Tori cackles, having witnessed our exchange.

Bee scatters the beers across the nightstand and drops down onto the floor. She is a freckled starfish surrounded by unruly brown waves.

Tanya's hand lands heavy on my thigh. Her eyes are hot when they meet mine. I tilt my head at her in question, but she just smiles and blinks the heat away. Our fingers twist together as I finish my first beer.

The second goes down just as easy.

A heaviness settles into my limbs as I knock back the third.

I think ... for the first time ever ... I'm drunk.

* * *

 **Uh oh! Edward seems to have eyes for Bee and lips for Tanya! He is also enjoying his first beer! How do you think it will turn out?**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **xo**

 **j**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Plot inspired by Halsey's _Hurricane._

 **Beta:** SunflowerFran

* * *

 **04**

* * *

Everyone else seems to be drunk, too. And as the night wears on, their walls slowly come down.

On the floor, an empty beer bottle wobbles and spins precociously. After a few sluggish turns, it slows to a stop with the open end facing Bee. She and Tori share secret smiles before leaning forward and locking lips. Their hands grasp shoulders, slide up backs, and curl around thick chunks of hair.

I let out a short breath and look away. The room is suddenly scorching hot, and Tanya's wandering hands are smothering. Sucking warm air into my lungs, I make up an excuse and duck into the bathroom.

It's small and shabby. The tiles are bright pink. The porcelain toilet, sink, and bathtub are stained. I expected that. It is a cheap motel, after all.

The water is ice cold when I twist the knob. It rushes out of the sink at a glacial pace, the water pressure weak. I cup a few handfuls of it and splash it on my face. Mashing my eyes shut, I attempt to sigh out the jitters and heat.

The cold water does its job, and after patting my face dry with a washcloth, I step back into room thirteen.

The door creaks as it swings open, announcing my return. Even so, the reactions of its occupants aren't fast enough to downplay the scene I walk in on. Emmett and Tanya both cover their mouths and lean sharply away from each other. The empty bottle tells me all I need to know – its open end pointing right to Emmett.

My mouth snaps shut with a clack of teeth. Throat constricting in a startled swallow, I frown and bob my head once in a nod before moving to the front door.

It shuts behind me with a faint and final click.

* * *

 **Trouble in paradise! Are we surprised? Are we happy? I'm happy you all are enjoying this (: As for why they're in a motel - they're teenagers acting like goons. It got dark and they didn't want to go home!**

 **As always, thank you so much for reading!**

 **xo**

 **j**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Plot inspired by Halsey's _Hurricane._

 **Beta:** SunflowerFran

* * *

 **05**

* * *

The little convenience store across the street is run-down and deserted. It's the perfect spot for a fifteen-year-old to buy a pack of forbidden cigarettes.

The bored, middle-aged man behind the counter doesn't even blink at my youthful appearance. He just hands over the pack of Marlboro Lights. I run my hands through my hair before pocketing it.

The pool at the center of the motel courtyard is like a beacon. The gate around it is locked, so I jump the fence. Sprawled out on a chaise lounge, I stick a cigarette between my teeth and light it. It's not my first, so the mechanics and the burn associated with it are familiar.

I suck it down to the filter, and then use the red end of it to light my second. The air around me is hazy, filled with swirling tendrils of smoke. My lips part, expelling another lungful as my head tips back.

It seems like minutes, but must be hours, later when the lounge next to me creaks. The cigarette between my fingers is my sixth, and my lungs burn. I don't even remember why I was mad, and the heaviness of the drink has fully vacated my limbs.

Head rolling to the side, I peer at my intruder. It's Bee. One leg folded over the other, she is picture-perfect relaxation. Smoke curls out of my gaping mouth.

Her eyes meet mine, head tilting as she tucks a strand of matted hair behind her ear. I slide the cigarette between my teeth and take a deep pull, eyes squinting against the heat. Bee sits up, moistens her lips with a shiny, pink tongue, and pulls it from my mouth. Her fingers skim against my skin briefly, and a jolt of electricity streaks through my gut.

The cigarette slips between her teeth. A juicy, pink, bee-stung pout surrounds it. Smoke trailing from said lips, she smiles that slow, dimpled smile.

My heart stops.

* * *

 **Ohp! Anyone else dying for the next chapter already? Tomorrow can't come soon enough (;**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **xo**

 **j**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Plot inspired by Halsey's _Hurricane._

 **Beta:** SunflowerFran

* * *

 **06**

* * *

The silence stretches as we blink at one another. Her eyes are dark slashes against her pale face. I want to be pulled into their depths.

She sucks the cigarette down to its butt. And then she purses her lips, sits up, and curves a hand around my wrist. One light tug and I'm on my feet. Another and I'm stumbling along behind her, watching her dark hair sway against her back.

The gate creaks as she pushes it open, and slams shut behind us. Door number thirteen opens with a low groan. The room beyond is cast in faint blue light from the fuzzy TV, illuminating the unconscious bodies scattered about.

Another tug and I'm across the threshold. Two more and we're at the foot of the bed. Bee twirls where she stands, and peers up at me with clear eyes. Lip tucked between her teeth, Bee leans up on her toes and cups the back of my neck. The next tug brings my mouth down to hers.

Her lips are warm and soft. Pliant. They give way for a hot tongue, which curls around mine to be sucked into her mouth. My heart is a hummingbird trapped behind paper-thin ribs.

More.

She gasps for more against my mouth, hands dropping to my waist and wrenching my shirt over my head. Her fingers drag down my chest, catching on my nipples and making my breath hitch.

The hands around my waist press until I'm sprawled out on the bed. I land with a light bounce and glance quickly to my right at the unconscious form beside me. It's Tanya. She lets out a sleepy snuff and rolls onto her side – facing away.

If Bee is bothered by this, she doesn't show it. Instead, she crawls up onto the bed and traps my hips between her knees. Lips shiny and parted, she bunches up the fabric of her shirt, revealing inch by inch of creamy skin. When it's finally discarded – a puddle of gray fabric against the pink sheets – I don't know where to look. Its either her face with those dark, dark eyes or her little breasts high and round on her chest.

She makes the decision for me.

* * *

 **With Tanya sleeping there beside them? Naughties!**

 **Thank you for reading!  
**

 **xo**

 **j**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Plot inspired by Halsey's _Hurricane._

 **Beta:** SunflowerFran

* * *

 **07**

* * *

Bee's lips part, eyes begging me to touch her. Grasping my hand in hers, she guides me to her chest. When my thumb brushes her nipple, her head falls back. Eyes clenched shut, she rolls her hips over mine and lets out a breathy sigh.

Heat, pulsating heat, emanates from every pore.

Sitting up, I fuse our mouths together and crush her breasts in my palms. Her breath stutters and fingers curl in my hair. Hips dragging and pressing, she gasps.

Pushing her hand between our pelvises and fingering my zipper, her eyes tell me what to do next. My jeans are off in an instant. And her shorts quickly follow. Skin-to-skin, she sighs.

My mouth opens as she lifts and shifts against me insistently. I want to tell her that I don't have a condom. That I've never done this before. That she's the only one. She'll be the only. My first.

Her lips purse, hands gentle on my face as she hushes me. It's okay, she assures me. She still wants to. And, do I still want to? At my nod, she smiles that slow, dimpled grin and closes her fist around my dick.

Eyes clenched shut, my head falls back against the pillows as I groan. Every pump and twist of her hand sends waves and waves and waves of pleasure through me. I don't want her to stop, but I want more.

Her teeth drag against my neck, tongue following behind to soothe the irritated skin. I know, her voice is husky as her lips ghost over my chin. Her hips shift and lift, hands guiding as her body lowers and envelopes me. And then I'm surrounded. Warmth. Wet, wet, warmth. From her kisses. From her sighs. From the spot between her legs that pulls me deep, deep within.

My hands are restless. Clutching at the sheets. Dragging up her back. Pulling her head back by her tangled hair. Mouth suckling at her long, soft neck. A neck that feels like peaches against my lips, but tastes like salt.

I'm so close, I gasp against her chest. Her pace quickens, lips parted as she rises and falls over me urgently. The slick slip and slide is everywhere. It's too much. It's not enough.

Bee's hands close around my wrists, pinning them to the bed over my head as she continues her onslaught. Neck straining, I clench my eyes shut and gasp as the pleasure overwhelms me. And then, just as quickly as it started, it's over.

Bee collapses onto the bed space beside me. Biceps firmly pressed together, I can feel the rapid rise and fall of her chest. It matches mine.

This is not even close to how I imagined my first time to go ... and, yet, somehow its better. Sandwiched between two girls in a big, pink motel room bed, I can't help but smile.

* * *

 **Consent is sexy (:** **Thank you for reading!**

 **xo**

 **j**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Plot inspired by Halsey's _Hurricane._

 **Beta:** SunflowerFran

* * *

 **08**

* * *

Pounding.

Thunderous pounding so loud it rattles my teeth. The bodies beside me shift restlessly and jerk alive as the door suddenly swings open. The knobby handle bangs against the wall, leaving a cracked imprint in the plaster.

Standing in the doorway is a disgruntled motel employee. His face shifts from disbelief to anger in seconds, causing the veins in his neck to stand out and pulse. Gurgling in rage, the employee scurries into the room and begins hauling half-conscious bodies from the ground.

Tanya is the first to leap out of bed, her eyes meet mine briefly as she leans down to pick up her discarded shoes. Her blue irises burn with heated confusion as she silently watches Bee push herself off my chest. I don't know what alarms her more – our unexpected positioning or Bee's state of dress (or lack thereof as she's only in her underwear).

Another guttural yell from the employee and the sleep is shaken from our bones. Jumping into action, we all hurriedly gather our discarded clothes and launch ourselves out onto the street. The early morning sun greets us with faint warmth and moisture. The asphalt under our bare feet has just begun to warm.

Standing on the street, we reach a crossroads. Our time together has clearly expired, and the looks we exchange show it. Our smiles are weak, hesitant as we shrug our discarded clothes back on. Tanya religiously avoids my gaze, her jaw set and eyes hard. Tori – oblivious to all – grins easily, generous mouth stretching over white teeth. Bee is quite the opposite. Her dark, hooded eyes rake over me slowly before she steps forward and places a delicate kiss on my cheek.

And then the girls are gone – running in the opposite direction and leaving behind a trail of high-pitched giggles. Stomach and cheeks still warm, I can't help the goofy grin that spreads across my face as I palm the place where her lips brushed my skin.

Jasper and Emmett exchange looks before bursting into laughter. With both of their arms slung over my shoulders, we trudge to the spot in the underbrush where we hid our bikes. Grasping morning dew spattered handlebars, we mount and begin again.

Wind catching in my shirt. Sun warming my cheeks. Sweat beading on my chest and upper lip.

This is what summer feels like.

Except this summer … This summer is different.

This summer … there's Bee.

* * *

 **Awww! Someone's got a crush! Thank you for reading!**

 **xo**

 **j**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Plot inspired by Halsey's _Hurricane._

 **Beta:** SunflowerFran

* * *

 **09**

* * *

I sprawl across my bed with visions of what the rest of my summer will look like. We'll go back to the skate park on the other side of town again. And we'll see the girls. And I'll ask Bee for her number like I should have earlier today.

The next day, we execute my plan. Our bikes creak as we make the long trek to the skate park. Excitement bubbles in my stomach as we near. I can't help but wonder what she'll look like today. Will she look different? Will she smile at me? Will she kiss me again?

I don't get to find out.

The skate park is empty when we arrive. And it stays that way every time we go back. For days. For weeks. For the entire summer, it's empty.

The girls vanish, practically into thin air. It's like Bee doesn't exist. It's like she _never_ existed. I actually start questioning my sanity, that is, until we run into Tori at the movies one night in early August.

Summer is virtually over by then.

She looks exactly the same, with wild red curls cascading down her back and generous mouth opened wide in a loud laugh. Even the nipple shadows remain the same. Although, this time they're not as beguiling. I'm a man on a mission – not easily distracted by fleshy diversions.

At the mention of Bee, Tori shrugs. Don't know, don't care – she tells us. Bee is Tanya's cousin from New York. She was only in town for a few weeks. She's long gone by now, and Tori doesn't have her number.

All of the fantasies I'd conjured of Bee and I's storied future are shattered. She's well and truly gone now. Back to New York – somewhere that is about as accessible to me as the Moon.

I swallow back the ache of longing and force a smile. Guys don't show emotions. They don't linger on feelings for impossible girls. Nonchalant might as well be my middle name.

Tori sits next to me in the movies. Her thigh smooshes against mine. Bare, freckled skin against my rough jeans. Her hand falls heavily onto mine, which rests comfortably on the armrest.

This is what guys do. They forget impossible girls. They move on to real girls. And Tori is first in a long line of _real_ girls that are not named Bee.

I flip my arm over and fuse our hands together. Tori hums beside me, head tilting against my shoulder. I don't feel anything as her thumb strokes the back of my hand, but I tilt her face to mine nevertheless. Her lips are soft and supple – girl lips.

But they aren't hers.

* * *

 **Ugh, poor boy :( young love is so fickle! Anyone else have someone pull the good ole' hand on the movie theater armrest move on them?**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **xo**

 **j**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Plot inspired by Halsey's _Hurricane._

 **Beta:** SunflowerFran

* * *

 _~ Thirteen years later ~_

 **10**

* * *

Meetings are the bane of my existence. For multiple reasons.

It's the chest puffing – _I did this._ _I secured that. I stopped this from happening._ _Here's the proof stretched out over a twenty-five-slide long PowerPoint._

And the talking over each other – _Where are the numbers? Can we go back to slide five? This is a marketing meeting, Bob!_

And the games.

I'd rather not partake. So, instead, I hide in my phone. If anyone notices, they don't say a thing, which I'm grateful for. I'd just like to keep my head down and work.

Two unnecessary hours later, we're released. I can't make it back to my office fast enough, and yet I manage to get intercepted by Mike from accounting on the way. He raises his brows suggestively, mentioning happy hour with a smarmy smile.

I peer down at my watch, feigning contemplation. I'm not going. I never go to that shit. It's all posturing and politics. And, like I said, I like to keep a low profile. It just makes things easier.

At my diversion tactic, he sighs. On and on he blabs about how important it is to go. How it's the big boss' retirement. How we should all be there. How much it'll mean to our boss.

I roll my eyes and concede. Making an excuse is just not worth the effort. After-work drinks won't hurt, either. I _have_ been working my ass off. I deserve the treat.

The bar they chose to host this thing at is one of those new, modern bars that barely legal girls flock to. I'm not sure why. Doesn't seem like boss man's scene.

Jessica from marketing is already hammered by the time Mike and I roll up. He insists that we go together. He even waits impatiently outside my office until I shut down for the night. I wouldn't consider us friends, but I guess he does.

I fire a text off to the group chat I have with Emmett and Jasper as I sidle up to the bar. They expressed interest in meeting me here. Now that its time, I'm sure they'll bitch out and stay in. That's their MO, being happy, married men.

I twist the silver band that's wrapped around the fourth finger of my left hand with a sigh. I'm in that other group of married men. The _un_ happy group.

Maybe that's why I gave in so easily to drinks.

I order a vodka cranberry and scowl when Mike does the same. He grins back at me like a dope, completely oblivious. I'm tempted to leave right then, but my drink arrives.

I should finish it before I go, right?

Frosty glass in hand, I take a few healthy swallows. It's disgusting, but most mixed drinks are. Especially at bars like this. The drinks they serve here aren't meant to taste good. They're meant to fuck you up. And when I think about what I have to go home to tonight, I decide that's just what I'll do.

I order another.

Mike thinks about following suit, but then pulls back. He's hardly drank the one in his hand. Hesitantly, he mentions something about staying clear headed until he's talked to big boss man. I shrug.

Fuck it.

I'm here, I'm going to drink while I'm at it.

* * *

 **Hmmm, those of you who thought I was setting up for a time jump were right! What do we think of grown up Edward?**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **xo**

 **j**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Plot inspired by Halsey's _Hurricane._

 **Beta:** SunflowerFran

* * *

 **11**

* * *

So, I do.

And, an hour later, boss man arrives. He's late to his own retirement happy hour. I would usually resist the urge to roll my eyes. You know, stay PC and all that. But, by now, I'm blitzed out of my mind so everything's game.

My eyes roll _hard_ as he takes the stage. Mic in hand, he proceeds to wax poetic about his reluctance to retire, but his needing to be close to family. I snort hard into my glass. The rumor is he's senile and got pushed out. Doesn't really make a difference, though, as he spends the majority of his "company" time on golf courses rather than in board rooms.

He drones on and on, hands gesticulating wildly as he laments his love for his company. I motion for the bartender to keep them coming. Pretty soon I'll be cut off. Maybe then I'll be willing to crawl into bed tonight.

Blinking back into focus, I visibly jerk at the scene that unfolds in front of me. Big boss is still on stage. But, now he's not alone. Standing next to him is someone I never expected to see again. Someone I haven't seen in thirteen years. Someone that is the star of every one of my sexual fantasies.

Bee.

Big boss introduces her as his daughter.

Isabella Swan. The daughter of technology mogul Charlie Swan, AKA big boss man. I'll be damned.

He parades her around the room like a prize. She shakes hands with the entire room. My palm itches for its turn.

She is a stark contrast to the wild seventeen-year-old in my memories. Her dark hair is much tamer now, pulled back into a neat little bun at the nape of her neck. But the few tendrils that have fallen loose against her shoulders hint at its hidden chaos. I like that, I decide.

Her wardrobe has clearly improved. She's an absolute vision in a form-fitting cream-colored dress. I want to tear it down the middle and see what time has done to her body. I bet its fucking fantastic.

Unconsciously, my thumb presses against the ring on my left hand. It does nothing to ebb the embers building inside me. In fact, it makes me want to take the damn thing off. I don't, though. That's what scumbags like Mike would do. Instead, I tuck my hand into my pocket and wait.

She drifts alongside her father, smiling and laughing at the things my colleagues say to her. That's one thing time hasn't changed. I smile faintly as I remember the way her freckled nose wrinkled every time she laughed and the deep dimples every smile revealed. She was as magnificent then as she is now.

Boss man finishes with Jessica from marketing and wraps his arm around Bee. Leaning into her ear, he guides her gently toward where Mike and I are posted up by the bar. Her eyes close as she listens intently to what her father tells her, lips stretching in a faint smile.

I'm breathless by the time they arrive. And grateful for all the drinks I consumed earlier. This is definitely something I need to be drunk for.

Boss man grins when he greets me, arm snug around Bee's waist. Her face betrays nothing as she nods in understanding at our introductions and reaches her hand out for a shake. Shockwaves jolt down my arm at the skin-to-skin contact. Her flesh is like silk against my palm.

I gulp and then release her, lest I drop down on my knees and begin worshipping right here. She seems unaffected. Soft smile in place, she laughs through Mike's kiss ass attempts to flatter her father. Normally, I'd join her. But I'm frozen in place at the sheer proximity of the most profound ghost of my past.

After a few minutes of rubbing elbows, Charlie and Bee take their leave. She doesn't even look back as they drift away, and I'm left with a mild hangover and bitterness in my belly

* * *

 **Uh oh! Bee sighting. Doesn't seem to go as swimmingly as Edward hoped. Does she remember him?**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **xo**

 **j**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Plot inspired by Halsey's _Hurricane._

 **Beta:** SunflowerFran

* * *

 **12**

* * *

Overwhelmed by disappointment, I slap my empty glass down on the bar and bid Mike farewell. At this point, home is looking better and better.

The street outside is teeming with people in a way that only New York City can pull off. I step into the center of the bustle and breathe the night air in. It does nothing to make me feel better.

Eyes mashed shut, I shake my head and sigh. The steady rush of the sidewalk traffic pulls me forward, so I just go with it. It's the wrong direction, but I can't find it in myself to care. I'm not going home, I've decided. I can't. Not like this.

I get five feet away before I'm stopped in my tracks by a hand on my arm. I already know who it is before I turn around. Doing so just confirms this. Bee is unsmiling as she peers up at me with dark, clear eyes. Wordlessly, she hands me a gray card before stalking away.

Twirling it in my fingers, I realize what it is. Her father's business card. I roll my eyes because, well, I already have the old fuck's contact details. On the back, though, is a hurried addition. The address of a hotel nearby followed by a brief note.

 _Room 13_

 _Midnight_

Vague, but telling. I don't have to think hard about it. I already know I'm going.

I have an hour to kill before our scheduled meeting time.

I spend that hour in the hotel bar. I'm literally the only person here, but I could give a fuck. I have half a mind to get fucked out of my mind. But then I think about what's to come ... and I know I need to be sober so I can remember this.

At 11:50, I pay my tab and meander over to where the rooms begin on the first floor. My heart rate increases as the numbers do, and I'm full-on quaking with nerves by the time I reach thirteen.

Swallowing my nerves and wiping my palms on my slacks, I raise my fist to knock and the door swings open underneath it. I wasn't expecting _that_ , but I force myself to shake it off. Steadying myself, I push inside, eyes squinting against the dim lighting.

The room, as far as I can tell, is empty. But the door leading to the small porch out back is ajar. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I make my way across the room to it. The little handle is cool in my hand and the door slides open easily. Instantly, I'm engulfed in the chill of the night.

"Married, huh?" Her voice startles me, and I can't help but jump away and look sharply to my right. Shrouded in shadows, she stands there in that cream dress with that neat hair looking familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.

At a loss for words, I shrug and tuck my hand into my pocket, thumb pushing angrily at the ring attached to my finger.

"Bummer." She drawls, stepping forward into my space. She smells amazing. Better than she did back then. She was all sweat and salt and smoke back then. Now, she's peaches and cream.

"Why'd you ask me to come here?" My voice is shaky as I push my fingers through my hair.

"Why not?" She shrugs, looking me over slowly. Her eyes consume me, so much so that I'm not sure if there will be anything left after she's done.

"Thirteen years..." I trail off, swallowing as I look away. I'm not sure what else to say. What little relationship we were able to build on that day thirteen years ago was not based on conversation.

That's putting it nicely, because I'm not sure that we talked at all.

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 **She does recognize him! What do we think will happen next? There's only one more chapter to go until I press complete. How do you think this will end?**

 **Thank you for reading!**

 **xo**

 **j**


	13. Chapter 13

**Here it is! The final chapter that puts an end to our snack! (:**

 **Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Plot inspired by Halsey's _Hurricane._

 **Beta:** SunflowerFran

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 **13**

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"Let's cut the shit." She says frankly, hands landing on the lapels of my suit jacket. "We both know you're not here to talk." Lapels now crushed in her fists, she continues. "I can still see it."

"See what?" Her lips curl up into that heartbreaking smile at my question.

"That look in your eyes." Her tongue reaches out to moisten her lips, and my eyes intently follow the motion. "You look at me as if I'm the only person in the world that matters. It hasn't changed in thirteen years."

"You're just so..." I trail off, eyes closing as her hands slide up my chest and curl around my neck.

"Yeah," she sighs, fingers playing in the fine hairs at edge of my hairline. "And you're married."

"Please," I murmur urgently, pressing our foreheads together to convey my intensity. "I don't want to talk about that. I don't want to talk at all."

Her lips curve up at my words and her head nods once in response. In assent. I see my opportunity and take it. Hands against her slim waist, it's me that does the tugging this time.

One tug and she's flush against me. Another and our mouths meet. One more and she's got her legs wrapped around my waist. Panting against her lips, I carry her through the patio doorway and back into the hotel room.

The bedroom is lavish. I don't bother with checking it out beyond a cursory sweep. With a toss, Bee goes skittering across the colossal bed. Sprawled out and breathless, she looks like something fit for eating.

I do just that.

Dress bunched up around her hips, she undulates against my face as I consume her. When her legs clamp hard around my head, I grasp her behind the knees and press until they're pinned to her chest. Her eyes meet mine then, and they're practically feral.

"I want to." She tells me, voice husky as she grasps me by the tie and drags me toward her. Sensing the urgency, I waste no more time. Shirt caught at the wrists and pants tangled around my knees, I sheath myself in a condom before pressing inside her. From this angle, she is breathtaking with her hair mussed and eyes wild.

I can't help but set a punishing pace, wanting – no, _needing_ – to make up for the thirteen years wasted not doing _this_. With her knees bent over my elbows, I have the perfect view of our coupling. Its everything and nothing all at the same time as we grab and pull and gasp into each other's mouths.

Hours later, we're both thoroughly fucked and disheveled as hell. Spent, we lay with our legs entwined in bed. Not talking. Just breathing. Euphoria.

Then, after a few quiet minutes, she turns her face into my chest and drifts off. The scene is so familiar – so nostalgic – that I can't help but smile as I feel my eyes droop.

The last time this happened, I woke a changed man. For the better? I'm not sure. This time, I'm optimistic that the outcome will be more than satisfactory.

My dreams – like always – are filled with her. But, now, she's not that impossible girl. She's real, and she's in my arms.

Or so I thought.

Frowning, I palm the cold sheets beside me before sitting up. The room is filled with soft, early morning light. Enough light to show me that I'm the only person occupying this room. There are no bags. There are no toiletries in the bathroom. There isn't a scrap of discarded clothing in sight – save for mine.

Once again, she has vanished without a trace.

Defeated, I slump into the soft, leather chair set at the room's bedroom desk. Fisting my hair, I can't help but laugh. Did last night really happen? Or did I dream her up? Was my night with Bee just a figment of my highly inebriated imagination?

The faint crinkle of paper under my elbow gives me pause. Lips parted, I let out a slow breath as I pick up the hotel stationary and lift it into my sightline. Its covered in the same messy scrawl as the business card. I know instantly that it's from her, and last night _really_ did happen.

 _Edward –_

 _I'm sorry that I can't be yours for more than a day. I'm sorry that this is all I can give you. One day, thirteen years from now, I'll be yours again._

 _Find me._

 _xo B_

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 **Halsey "Hurricane" lyrics that inspired this fic:**

I'm a wandress  
I'm a one night stand  
Don't belong to no city  
Don't belong to no man  
I'm the violence in the pouring rain  
I'm a hurricane

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 **What did you guys think? Like the ending? Dislike the ending? Let me know in the comments (: if you'd like a visualization of this fic, go watch Halsey's music video for her song "Hurricane" - the first part of this fic was loosely based on it.**

 **Thank you all so much for your continued support and encouragement! I really appreciate it! Look out for updates coming soon for Infatuation!**

 **xo**

 **j**


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